Chapter 20
Maeve’s first visit to Heims was as expected: freezing. The ice planet was covered, as it had been for as long as the history books remembered, in endless winter. Green and blue waves of light draped across the horizon in an icy glow.
They Portaled directly to the ice covered steps that led to the shining, white castle of King Kier. Stalakta Fortress it was called. Mal wore an all black ensemble, complete with a high neck to keep out the cold. Alphard stepped out of the Portal behind her.
Upon the landing sat a bright white wolf with red eyes. Behind him, a dozen more wolves. Their thick fur boasted all shades of black and grey.
The white wolf sniffed. His head shifted to one side.
Then his oversized paw stepped forwards, and he bent onto his back legs, his white nose pointed at the snowy steps.
“Your grace,” he said.
Maeve’s entire chest rose as her eyes grew large.
The wolf's red eyes lifted to hers. “My name is Mordred of the Kings Guard. It is an honor to greet you on behalf of King Kier.” His voice was like gravel crushing together.
She couldn’t believe her eyes. Before her was a talking wolf.
The pack behind him all bowed in the same fashion Mordred had. Maeve looked up at the winding, icy stairs. At least two dozen wolves sat along the pathway to the castle, perhaps more than her eyes could see.
“I was hoping to make your acquaintance, Dread Viper,” said Mordred.
Maeve looked back down at him. “The honor is mine,” she said stiffly.
She resisted the urge to speak into Mal’s mind, and question why she was face to face with a talking wolf without warning. So her guards remained up all the same.
Alphard, who had visited Hiems before, avoided looking at Mordred.
Modred led them up towards the castle. It was a slender, ice covered towers that shot high into the white backdrop of ice walls surrounding it, entirely a fortress of its own.
It was difficult to see the landscape beyond the castle through the endless snow. They crossed a bridge of pale blue ice that arched high over a frozen river.
As they crossed the threshold of the castle, Maeve prepared herself to feel an encapsulating warmth of Magic, but it never came.
She’d nearly forgotten Hiems boasted no Magic. She pulled her coat closer. Kier stepped towards them with open and welcome arms.
“Malachite!” He exclaimed.
“Kier,” said Mal with a charming smile as they clasped hands.
Kier turned towards Maeve.
“Maeve Sinclair,” he said. “The Dread Prince couldn’t have picked a better second if Merlin himself came back from the dead!”
Maeve forced a smile, anticipating his next words and praying they wouldn’t be spoken.
“A tragedy, your father’s death. You have my condolences.”
Maeve nodded, unable to form a reply.
“Your chef still the same as my last visit, Kier?” Asked Alphard, interrupting them. “I could kill for one of those cakes.”
Kier laughed. “Come. To the lounge. We shall stuff our faces. I have a gift for you, Dread Prince.”
Kier instructed one of the servants to have his gift brought to the great hall as Maeve looked at Alphard and mouthed a silent thank you.
He gave her a brief nod before following after Kier and striking up another conversation.
Maeve shivered.
Mal looked down at her as they followed closely behind Kier and Alphard. Mordred trailed them with silent steps. She looked over her shoulder at the wolf, and wondered if Antony had been able to talk in his werewolf form.
She pulled her arms around her, shivering slightly.
They followed Kier into an intimate dining area with large fires at each corner of the room. Mal slid his coat off his shoulders in a fluid motion. A man with a stern face took it from him at once.
Maeve welcomed the warmth the fires provided, though she still had no desire to remove her coat. Mal’s eyes scanned over her quickly.
“Kier?” He called in a friendly tone.
The ruler of Hiems turned towards him with raised brows.
“Might the fires be larger?”
“Of course!” Kier clapped his hands and two men moved from either side of the door, adding firewood until each fire was blazing hot and stretched high into the stone holes they sat in.
Maeve looked up at Mal. A smile pulled at her lips. His Magic drifted towards her in intoxicating confidence.
Maeve stepped towards him and opened her mouth just as Kier called her name.
“My daughter,” said Kier, gesturing to the girl now at his side. “Wren. I believe the pair of you failed to meet at her last visit to Castle Morana.”
Wren did not acknowledge Maeve. She bowed her head at Mal and spoke directly to him. “Your grace. It is wonderful to see you again.”
Mal smiled at her in a way Maeve hated.
“And my sons, Gerald and Kax.”
The two little ones bowed respectfully and looked to their father for approval. Kier nodded, and they relaxed.
“Wonderful to meet you all,” said Maeve, plastering on a smile.
“Please, sit,” said Kier, gesturing towards the table.
Maeve took her place at Mal’s right as Kier sat at his left.
An older woman shuffled into the hall, carrying a large box covered in dark fabric.
“Wonderful, wonderful,” said Kier as she made her way across the hall to him.
She stood silently between the King and Mal.
“Go on,” said Kier, motioning for Mal to remove the draped fabric.
With a fluid twist of his hand, the fabric disappeared, revealing a large birdcage with an inky colored bird on a small branch.
Wren gasped and awed at Mal’s use of simple Magic. Maeve’s stomach knotted at her gleaming expression. Another twist of his fingers and the cage door slipped open. Mal extended his slender hand towards the opening. The sleek bird fluttered slightly and stepped onto his outstretched finger.
“A raven,” said Kier. “One of the oldest on Hiems.”
Mal studied the sleek bird with his head cocked to the side. It rested on his long finger with perfect ease. Mal’s eyes moved to Kier. His brow raised and the corner of his mouth tugged up.
“I travel all this way and you gift me an old bird?”
Kier smiled.
“The Magic within her is deep,” said Mal.
“Yes,” said Kier. “She can camouflage herself entirely and repeat human speech. She can Obscure as well.”
“She can jump the way we Magicals can?” Asked Maeve.
Kier nodded. “She is touched by Fauna.”
Mal looked to him. “Touched by Fauna?” He repeated.
“Fauna were Gods that visited Hiems many evolutions ago. They blessed our planet’s creatures with their Magic. Mordred, and most of the creatures that roam freely on Hiems, hold Fauna’s power. Evaneskca, as she is called, now will bless you with her unique Magic.”
“All of the animals on Hiems are blessed with Magic?” Maeve asked.
Kier smiled at her and nodded. “In one way or another. It’s not simple Magic.”
Maeve wracked her brain for any semblance of a lesson at Vaukore about Fauna or her gift of Magic. But none came.
“But there are no,” she began, struggling to find the words.
Kier laughed. “No humans here possess Magic abilities no,. Though we’ve managed for quite some time.” He smiled.
“Were the Dragons from Hiems?” She asked.
Kier’s smile faded, but he commended her all the same. “Smart girl. The Dragon’s tyranny lasted many years on Hiems in the ancient Magical world. Back when Vaukore was still the home of King Primus, the first Magical. They were driven off this rock and exiled to The Dark Planet.” Kier’s eyes widened. “Your uncle killed the last of the wretched beasts, I am told?” He asked with praise in his voice.
“So I am told as well,” she said.
“Yes,” continued Kier. “I remember now. Your father showed me the skull and skin.”
Maeve’s insides twisted. The bowl of stew that was now placed before her seemed inedible.
It didn’t take long for Kier to steal Mal away. That was, it seemed, the King’s favorite pastime. Maeve walked the icy halls of Stalakta, studying their portraits and paintings with Mordred at her side.
The wolf’s back met her hip. His paws were far larger than her own hands.
“How does a wolf and his pack come to serve as a King’s Guard?” She asked casually.
“By being the best,” he replied. “Much like how you came to stand at the Dread Prince’s side.”
Maeve hummed in agreement. “May I ask you something that I am uncertain if you will take offense to?”
Mordred grunted in approval.
“Were you born this way? Or were you once human?”
“I am, what the books would call, a werewolf,” he said. “ But here on Hiems with Fauna’s Magic I am able to move freely between man and wolf as I please. No moon cycle dictates my transformation. Admittedly, this form feels more natural to me. I have not been in my human form in forty something odd years.”
“In Vaukore’s realm, there are mermaids in the glacier lakes. Would they be touched with that same Magic if they came here?”
“Hard to say,” said Mordred. “I’ve never been to the small realm in question.”
“Fauna did not bless the humans with Magic, and yet Kier rules above you all.”
Mordred chuckled. It was deep raspy. “There are many species on this planet. None of them trust another to rule.”
Maeve smiled softly. “I see.”
“The boy who has come before. Mavros. He told me tale of a friend of his who was part-wolf, part-man.”
Maeve nodded. “He was my brother.”
“Earthlings are not kind to my kind, I have heard.”
“No,” she said weakly. “They are not.”
Mordred’s eyes softened. “I am sorry for your brother’s death.”
“Why do The Double O hate your kind? Why the push to eradicate that particular deviation of Magic?”
“The ancient ways are not forgotten by those who sought to maintain order of the Magicals on Earth. The Shadow War was only three hundred years ago, and your ancestors remembered the mangy beasts and four legged hounds from hell that crept out from the blight. It is my understanding they were likely afraid of the Magical gene your brother possessed.”
“Hounds like you?”
“More like my fallen comrades brought back. Never dead. Never to live again. Only to destroy Magic.”
“The immortals, The High Lord of Aterna, they vanquished those armies and ended The Shadow War.”
Modred moved in a shrug-like manner. “There is always darkness waiting to rise.”
“My home, back on Earth, my family had unicorns there. My father said they’d once been here on Heims. But they could not speak. Were they not touched by Fauna?”
“Speaking is not the only gift of Fauna,” he answered. “A being touched by Fauna inherits special abilities, otherwise impossible. I boast no abilities to move through space like your Prince’s new raven. Nor can I conjure ice like some spiders, but they cannot speak or move between forms. That said, the unicorns of your family possessed everlasting blood, did they not?”
“So I was told.”
She reflected on the water demon, the Grindylow that nearly claimed her life.
“Are there other creatures from Heims on Earth?”
“Of course,” said Mordred, boredly. “How do you think your brother came to be a wolf? There is Magic from every realm on Earth by now.”
A brown and white wolf appeared around the corner. Maeve nearly startled at his silent appearance. The wolf sniffed and huffed.
Mordred gave him a clipped nod.
“Excuse me,” said Mordred.
He didn’t look up at Maeve as he followed the wolf around the corner. Maeve stepped forward and watched them until they disappeared around another corner.
“I couldn’t stop staring at them, either.”
Maeve looked up as Alphard stepped up beside her. She looked away hastily. He continued.
“My first time on Heims, I couldn’t sleep for days from the sight of them. Thinking about Antony. . .what we would have looked like in his wolf form.”
“I’m fairly certain you aren’t supposed to be alone with me,” she said, her eyes back on the wolves.
“An error I apologized for,” he replied, and then muttered. “And paid for with honor.”
Maeve scoffed. “You apologized to Mal,” she said. “Not to me.”
Alphard paused. She turned towards him boldly.
“I’m sorry,” he said sincerely.
She nodded and extended him her hand. “Then we speak of it no more.”
He suppressed a grin, but he took her hand and shook it in agreement.
“One last gift before you go,” said Kier as they stood outside the castle where Mal Portaled them in.
Mal smiled fully. It was so impactful Maeve was certain if he commanded, it Kier himself would fall to his knees.
“You’ve done enough, my friend,” said Mal graciously.
Kier shrugged.
A solid black mare huffed in the freezing night’s air as it emerged between two forms of ice.
“I imagine she’ll do well in the Dread Lands,” said Kier. “Your Ambassador tells me it remains cool most moon cycles.”
The horse stepped straight to Mal. She was massive. Larger than any Clydesdale or Shire Maeve had ever seen on Earth.
“I feel the deep Magic within her,” said Mal, his hand brushing along her mane. “She is of Dread Magic. This is too gracious a gift.”
“Nonsense,” said Kier. “You are a Prince. I look forward to your reforming the Dread Lands. It has long been overdue.”
“Your kindness will not be forgotten,” said Mal.
“No,” said Kier. “And nor will my proposal, I hope.”
Mal’s charm did not falter as he said. “Of course.”